"He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter. Will you find your destiny, I wonder, or will you go through life like so many others—a wanderer, knocking ever at empty doors, homeless to the last? Oh, if one could but find the way to your heart. And, turning to his daughter, he gave the necessary directions in a low tone. ’ Gerald smiled. He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. Oddly, Sebastian chose to be charioteer. “Come on.
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